


don't want to ruffle any feathers

by ruthvsreality



Category: Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Touching, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthvsreality/pseuds/ruthvsreality
Summary: Jim’s been thinking more about daemons, lately, now that he’s spending time with one other than his own. Some daemons act just like their humans. Some reveal what their humans are truly thinking. Some act in ways even the humans don’t understand.Jim/Jeff, Daemon (ish) AU.





	don't want to ruffle any feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steadfxst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steadfxst/gifts).



> changes I made to the general daemon mythology for the sake of Fun and Drama:
> 
> 1) Daemons can't talk.  
> 2) Some folks can travel far away from their Daemons.  
> 3) Daemons can act independent from their humans, though they will always reflect the humans' true thoughts and feelings.

It starts with an incident at a Trump rally. A group of protestors come in, removing their MAGA hats and revealing themselves as part of the resistance. People are already pretty riled up during those things, and the president certainly doesn’t help, so it’s no real surprise what happens next. Someone throws a punch. There’s a scuffle - Jim wasn’t at this particular rally, he doesn’t know specifically what happened - and by the end of it someone’s crow has a broken wing and the corresponding human is in a coma for three days.  The news story fades away after Trump crashes into yet another possibly impeachable offense, but it still damages what little of a good reputation he has left.  
  
After that, Trump rallies don’t allow daemons in the building anymore. This is not okay with Jim.   
  
“It’ll be okay.” Peter says in the lobby of the hotel. “Amistad will be with June.”  
  
Jim glances at Peter’s big bear in the corner and tries to calm himself down. He leans his forehead against Amistad and whispers, “I’ll be back soon.” 

His beautiful golden retriever licks his face and whines a little, but obediently stays with June after a few false starts where she tries to follow Jim to the press bus.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once they’re on the bus. “Do you need me to hold your hand?”   
  
Jim’s hands are clammy and he feels naked without his daemon. He doesn’t know how Peter is able to handle being away from his own big brown bear for more than a few minutes. Some people are able to go across entire continents without their daemons. Some people can go for weeks without their daemons. Jim can’t do either of those things. He hasn’t been away from Amistad for more than a few minutes in years. He hates being so sensitive when it comes to his daemon, but he hates even more the idea of Peter treating him like one of his kids. He’s stronger than that. He’s a man. “I’m fine.” He says, though he know Peter doesn’t really believe it.  
  
At the rally, it’s so much worse. He feels strange and vulnerable, seeing everyone milling around, occasionally yelling at him. Normally he’s just able to tune it out, maybe even joke around a bit, but right now he just wants to go home and sleep. He turns to Jeff to see if maybe he has some crackers or something, something to give his brain to do - and he comes across a strange sight.   
  
Jeff is talking into his suit jacket.  
  
“Shhh, you gotta be quiet, okay? You can’t make noise or we’ll get caught.” Jeff whispers. 

Inside his suit jacket is a small, bright yellow bird, a bit smaller than Jim’s fist. Jim can see her duck in and out of Jeff’s pocket, ultimately snuggling in with her long beak pointed out, her cute, beady eyes blinking quickly as she looks around.

“Oh, Jeff,” Jim sighs, “You didn’t. It’s not allowed.” As if Jim is a real stickler for the rules all of a sudden. Maybe he’s just jealous that Jeff gets to carry his daemon around and Jim doesn’t, because Jim’s is too big to hide in his pocket. 

“It is if you can hide her.” He looks up. “And she’s usually quite docile when she’s not being a little brat.” He frowns. “You okay? You look pale.”

Jim would rather not have this conversation with Jeff, who always seems to look pretty and made up and ready for the camera. “I’m fine.” 

Jeff narrows his eyes. He’s clearly not taking Jim’s shit today. “You’re not fine.” 

“No, okay? I’m not.” Jim sighs and slouches a bit more. The president is yelling and it’s giving him a headache. 

“Jim,” Jeff asks, “are you not okay without Amistad?”   
  
Jim doesn’t like admitting how he needs Amistad with him, always. It makes him feel weak, even though he knows that plenty of statesmen and important people have their daemons next to them at all time. Look at Obama, for God’s sake; the man is never photographed without Bo by his side.   
  
“It’s hard.” He admits. “I usually have her with me.”   
  
Jeff nods sympathetically. Jim takes a deep breath and tries to get back into the swing of things. This is his job. He does this every other week. And hey, at least no one’s yelling at him right now.  
  
Later, during his liveshot, Jeff’s daemon is very noisy.   
  
“Jeff,” Matt looks up from behind his camera, “the mic’s picking up the tweeting.”  
  
Jeff nods and turns his head to the little bird on his shoulder. “Sofia!” He scolds.  Sofia tweets back at him, a little song that sounds slightly mocking.  He looks at Jim. “Do you mind if she hangs with you for a couple of minutes? You don’t have to, like, touch her or anything.”  
  
Touching a daemon is extremely intimate, even more intimate than sex.  Even the idea of touching Jeff’s daemon makes Jim blush. “O-okay.”   
  
“Maybe she’ll make you feel better.” Jeff offers a smile as Sofia flies over to sit on Jim’s shoulder.  
  
She’s a very pretty bird, though he feels like that might offend her if he tells her so. It’s not the same as when Amistad’s with him - nothing could replace Ami, she’s his soul - but it’s nice, to have something there to comfort him. Sofia has Jeff’s energy, his pleasantness. It’s good to be around something like that. Jim doesn’t feel one hundred percent, but he does feel a little bit better. Good enough for him to be able to do his liveshot and get back to the hotel, where Amistad is, waiting by the sidewalk with Peter’s big bear. 

“Oh, Ami!” Jim rushes off the bus and runs towards her, not caring about the people staring at him. “I’m never leaving you again.” He hugs her close and scratches behind her ears. She wags her tail and barks in his ear. Her fur is soft and he presses his face into it, calming himself. He missed her. He won’t let this happen again; they’ll have to make an exception for press with sensitive bonds with their daemons.

Of course, that doesn’t happen. It’s the Trump administration, after all; they hate the press, and they _really_ hate Jim. So Jim is forced to go to rallies without Amistad. Luckily, Jeff, who is able to let Sofia roam around where she pleases, lends his daemon to Jim whenever Jim can’t bring his with him. Jim is immensely grateful.It’s not the same, but Jeff’s a sweetheart for letting Sofia help him out.   
Jeff’s a sweetheart in a lot of ways. He’s a good friend. Cute, too. But Jim would never say that. Jeff is so far out of Jim’s league he’s in outer space. 

  
\---  
  
“It’s a bullshit policy,” Jim complains to Jake, lying on his couch, “but at least Jeff’s helping me out with it. Do you ever wish you had a smaller daemon?”   
  
“Sometimes my daemon is a flea.” Jake nods at the terrier in the little dog bed in the corner of the room, where Winston is sleeping.   
  
“Right. Has he still not settled, yet?” Jim tilts his head.   
  
As if in response, Winston shifts and turns into a pelican.   
  
“He’ll settle when he wants to settle.” Jake says with a placid smile, not looking up from his work.   
  
Jake’s rare, with an unsettled daemon and a same-sex one at that. Some people say it makes him an aberration, that it makes him weak because his daemon isn’t settled. Others say it prevents bias, that he’s not stuck in one worldview. Jake ignores most of it and Jim likes that.  
  
Jim likes Jeff, too. He likes listening to Jeff talk, likes seeing Sofia fly around his head as they walk to the rose garden. Jeff has a little stand for her to sit on at their desk at work. Sometimes he pets her with a q-tip.   
  
She looks very soft. She seems to like Jim, a lot. She has a good time with Amistad.   
  
Jim’s been thinking more about daemons, lately, now that he’s spending time with one other than his own. Some daemons act just like their humans. Some reveal what their humans are truly thinking. Some act in ways even the humans don’t understand.   
  
Trump’s daemon is depressing. A sad little frog. It’s kept in a glass box on the rare occasions it comes out. The first time Jim saw it, he never thought he’d be sorry for Trump, but he felt a pang when he saw that sad little creature, slowly breathing in front of the crowd, obviously desperate for the sun.  Taking care of your daemon is effectively self-care; you’re supposed to let it interact with and learn from other daemons, the way a child is supposed to interact with and learn from other people. Jim gets the feeling that Trump has never done such a thing with his frog.  
  
Jeff talks to his daemon, a lot. He likes soft pretzels and rosé and swimming in the ocean. He has a lisp and a stammer on occasion and though Jim would never ever tell him, Jim finds it kind of sexy, how determined he is to get the words out. Jeff is outspoken about his political views but doesn’t shout questions like Jim does. He’s inquisitive, smart. He doesn’t seem like much but once you get to know him he’s a starburst. His daemon suits him perfectly.   
  
Jim might have a bit of a crush. But it doesn’t matter. He’s just happy to have Jeff as a friend.  He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. 

Jim turns to Jake from his spot on the couch. “Hey Jake,” Jim says, “what do you think of Jeff?”

Jake tilts his head and Winston, taking Jake’s lead, turns into a small orange bird, similar in size and type to Jeff’s. “I like Jeff,” Jake says. “He’s a good guy.” Then he pauses and smirks ever so slightly. “What do  _ you  _ think of Jeff?”

Jim feels his face start to heat up. “Nothing. I was just wondering when the last time it was that you asked me about someone out of the blue. Was it Liz?” He pretends to think. “It could have been someone else, someone pretty and smart -”

“Shut up.” 

“Never.” Jake stands and buttons his jacket. “Now I’m kicking you out of my office so I can do my show.”

Jim sticks his tongue out at Jim’s back, and in his bed, Winston turns into a lizard, sticking  _ his  _ tongue out, too.

\----

Life is good with Jeff. Jeff is like the sunshine. He comes out and everything seems a little bit brighter. 

They go out and get lobster rolls. They go on Jim’s boat. They swim in the pool where Jeff lives on the weekends. Jim didn’t think that adults had “best friends”, but it’s possible that he has one with Jeff. Amistad loves Jeff. Sits at his feet almost as much as he sits at Jim’s. And Sofia makes friends with everyone, but she really likes Jim and Amistad. Around the office, people start to call them Snoopy and Woodstock. The comparison doesn’t quite work - Snoopy was a beagle and Amistad is a golden retriever - but Jim gets it. And he doesn’t mind. Sure, he’s single and his job is hard, but with the right people around you, life can be pretty good.

So, of course, like he does with most good things he has, Jim has to ruin it.

\----

Maybe it’s because it’s late, the night when Jim touches Sofia. Maybe it’s because he’s tired. Maybe it’s because Amistad’s not awake to bark and snap him out of his reverie. But Jeff’s out making copies of some papers, and Jim has the pleasure of Sofia’s company, next to his desk, occasionally hopping up and down on her little legs.  
  
She’s so energetic and happy. Just like Jeff.   
  
Jim closes his laptop and looks at her with a smile. “Quittin’ time, huh, Sof?”   
  
Sofia nods and coos a little. Up close, he can see the other colors hidden in her soft yellow coat, dark yellows and browns and even a hint of grey. Beautiful. 

She’s full of hidden depths, just like her human.   
  
He doesn’t even think about it. It’s not a conscious decision. He just reaches out and brushes his index finger down her soft belly.

Jim doesn’t know much about birds, but he’s pretty sure that she likes the touch. Her eyes close and she stretches, tipping her head back so far she almost falls over. The feathers on her neck and belly move with her, revealing soft white down underneath. He puts his hand behind her so she doesn’t literally fall over and hurt herself in what is clearly a very happy moment for the little bird. 

He pauses his brushing; she nips at his finger, almost annoyed. He rolls his eyes. “Be patient.” He says quietly. “I’m right here.” She coos back at him. It’s lovely. 

He continues touching her, in a daze, for the next half minute. He’s never seen a creature - daemon or otherwise - look so awash in ecstasy. She sighs and the sound is sweet. He’s happy she’s happy.   
  
There’s a shifting noise at the doorway, a creaking of the door, and Jim sees Jeff, holding onto the door handle like it’s barely keeping him up. His face is red and he looks almost dizzy. The stack of papers he was holding is on the floor, scattered.  
  
(Jim had asked Jake, once, what it feels like to have your daemon touched by someone other than your doctor. Sharon never let him touch her flamingo.  Jake got a dreamy look in his eyes.   
  
“It’s wonderful. It’s like - it’s not , uh, sexual? But it’s very... sensual. It’s like... it’s incredibly intimate. I mean, you’re touching someone’s soul. If that’s platonic, that’s a strong friendship. If it’s not... well, I let my wife touch Winston, but that’s it, you know? It’s the most intimate thing you can do.”)   
  
Jim jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. _What the fuck did he just do?_   
  
Jeff clears his throat. “S-Sofia?” He says in a small voice.  
  
Sofia doesn’t respond. She’s still presenting her belly to Jim for more pets.   
  
“Sofia.” Jeff repeats more forcefully, though his voice is wobbly. “Time to go. __Now.”  
  
Sofia makes an unhappy noise but obediently flies over to Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff leans down and picks up his papers. He grabs his briefcase.   
  
“Jeff -“ Jim begins to say, but Jeff is already gone.   
  
Oh, god. Jim has fucked up so bad.

\----

Lying on his bed at home, face down, the lights off, Jim thinks he should just hand in his resignation right now. He could email it in; it’d be dumb and he’d have to come in tomorrow to actually, really resign, but at least he could stay home and not face Jeff tomorrow. But he knows that’s not really an option. 

Amistad curls up next to him and whimpers a little. He mumbles, “I know, buddy” into the bedspread.  

It’s not fair. Sofia was right there and she was so soft and she was _Jeff’s_ \-   
He gets into work super early in the morning. Might as well be punctual when Jeff gives him the sexual harassment suit.   
  
He’s heard rumors. About creeps wrapped up in the Me Too movement touching daemons. Hurting them.   
  
Is he as bad as those guys?   
  
_Jeff’s soul was almost literally asking for more, when was the last time someone had shown them affection like that, poor bird, poor Jeff, they both put on a brave face but Jeff is alone too, just like Jim is -  
_  
When Jeff comes into work there are dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept all night. There’s no sign of Sofia.   
  
Jeff meets Jim’s eyes and says, “Listen, about last night -"  
  
“Please don’t go to HR.” Jim says. Then he winces at his own words. “I mean. You can if you want. I’m not going to stop you, of course.” _Do you want to look like even more of a creep, Acosta?  
_ _  
_ “I’m - I’m not going to do that.” Jeff scratches the back of his neck. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. You just - forgot she wasn’t a bird, that’s all.”   
  
That’s not why Jim touched her. Jim touched her because she isn’t a bird, because she’s part of Jeff’s soul. But Jeff is giving him an out and he’ll take it.  
  
“Um. Yeah.” It isn’t a convincing lie but Jeff seems all too keen to end the conversation.   
  
“Just - let’s forget it even happened, okay? We’re still friends. It’s not - I’m not going to tell anyone.” Jeff seems insistent.   
  
“Okay.”  
  
Jim’s a pool reporter today, which is good, because he does not want to be around Jeff right now, not with guilt filling him from head to toe.   
  
He grabs his suitcase. “C’mon, Ami.” Amistad follows him dutifully.   
  
He gets a little bit down the hall, and then...   
  
“Sofia!” There’s a flutter of yellow and Sofia is sitting on his shoulder. Jim frowns at her.   
  
“No. Go back to your human. He’s mad at me and I don’t want him feeling worse because you’re not around. I have Ami. You’re fine.”  
  
She nips at his ear and digs her talons into his shirt. She’s tiny so it doesn’t really hurt him, but the sad look on her face when he turns to look at her and she has to hop further away does make him feel bad. Fuck. Jim didn’t even know birds __could look sad. 

“Go bother Amistad, at the very least.” He says, gesturing down. “She’s happy to accomodate you.”

Amistad wags her tail and smiles, her tongue sticking out. She looks positively elated to have Sofia around. (Truth be told, Jim’s pretty happy that Sofia’s not mad at him, because it means Jeff isn’t too mad at him, not deep down. But he’s not going to say that. And he’s not going to get into any more trouble by letting Jeff know that.)

Sofia seems determined to stay put, though, which doesn’t help Jim’s unspoken promise to keep his distance. 

Jim manages to get Sofia off him and back into the office, but not without some convincing and many (false) promises about touches.   
He can’t imagine how Jeff must be feeling. Jim has never had Amistad act against his wishes before. It must feel awful.  
\-----

And yet it keeps happening.  Everywhere he goes, Sofia is wont to follow. She’s constantly underfoot, or around his head. Once he nearly steps on her in the briefing room.  
  
He goes out to have lunch in the rose garden - there she is, flying around and brushing up against his cheek or his hand. He’s never seen a daemon so desperate to be touched. She’ll cuddle up against him or coo in his ear or, sometimes, bring him little trinkets or shiny things (she once tugged off a secret service agents’ earpiece). Her behavior is easily the most confusing behavior of a daemon Jim has ever seen.   
  
Every time he brings her back to Jeff, who apologizes (as if he should apologize! Jim should be the one apologizing, for, uh, stealing Jeff’s daemon, or whatever) and usually walks away scolding her.   
  
Jim is usually pretty good at reading people and daemons. He has no idea what’s up with Jeff. And it’s not like Jeff is willing to talk - he’s been avoiding Jim a lot, lately. It seems like while Jeff isn’t mad, their relationship won’t be the same way it was before Jim touched Sofia. Jim’s sorry for that. He wishes he could make it better.

Though, of course, according to Sofia, he did nothing wrong. Funny how that works. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

\----

On a day when Jim is supposed to be thankful that Trump cancelled a rally in Florida, something happens. Sofia, because evidently she now has made it her purpose to drive Jim crazy, decides to sit on Jim’s head and, well, not move. At all. Maybe before The Incident Jim wouldn’t have minded it, would have even liked it, but now it is simply unacceptable. For one thing, Jim can’t really work with a bird on his head. For another thing, Jim feels weird every time he moves, because there’s a bird on his head. And finally, it messes up his hair, which he needs to be nice when he does his liveshot, which he will not be able to do if he has a bird on his head.

It takes him a little while - he has to trek around the White House very carefully to make sure that a) no one notices and b) Sofia doesn’t get hit by a doorway - but eventually he finds Jeff in the offices, transcribing his notes onto his laptop.  Jeff looks up and his eyes go wide.

“Hey, Jeff,” Jim says with a slightly sarcastic smile, “do you happen to know why Sofia has glued herself to my hair?” 

As if in response, Jim feels the bird snuggle deeper into his curls and tug on them with her talons to keep a firm grip. 

“Um.” He hears Jeff mutter something like _please no_. “Sofia. _Now_.”   
  
The sound Sofia makes would probably be a swear word in any human language.  
  
“Jeff.” Jim knows he looks ridiculous but he crosses his arms anyway. “This is your daemon. If she’s acting - I don’t know - then you need to at the very least tell me why! Are you mad at me?”  
  
“No!” Jeff’s face has gone a bit pink.  
  
“Then what’s up? She won’t leave me alone, Zeleny.”   
  
At that Jeff blinks and looks so utterly crushed it’s painful. “Well, if you really hate her that much, give her here.” He holds out his hand.

“Well.” Jim shakes his head a bit and she only holds on tighter, like she’s on a tree that’s blowing in the wind. “I can’t really do that. She doesn’t seem intent on coming off.” 

He reaches up in an attempt to get her off and -  _ ow!  _ When he brings his hand back down, his index finger is slightly bloody. It’s not a bad bite by any stretch of the imagination, but it still gives him pause. She really likes being there, doesn’t she?

“Sofia!” Jeff stands quickly. He rushes over to Jim to examine the wound. “I’m sorry, she’s - Sofia, that was very rude.” 

Sofia chirps almost haughtily. 

They’re very close all of a sudden. Jim is reminded of how much he missed Jeff’s closeness, his energy, his warmth. While Jeff is looking around for tissues or band-aids to clean off Jim’s finger, he says softly, “I don’t hate her. Far from it.” 

Jeff pauses his movements for a moment. Sofia seems satisfied with this and jumps down to Jim’s shoulder. Jeff goes over - nudged by Amistad, who has her own bad behavior - and holds a tissue paper over Jim’s fingers.   
  
“I’m sorry for her.” Jim says. “She should know better.”  
  
“Don’t be, she’s wonderful.” Jim looks at Jeff and offers a tiny smile. “I don’t hate her at all, Jeff. I just want to know why.”   
  
Jeff swallows. “I think - and maybe... this is why...” his voice has gone small, “she wanted you to touch her...”   
  
Finally, some acknowledgement that Jim isn’t crazy. That she wanted it, that it isn’t just one of Jim’s dumb ways of justifying his shitty actions.   
  
“... is because she has a c-crush on you?”   
  
Jim blinks. “Jeff, that’s not how daemons work.” They’re not independent creatures. They don’t have their own consciousness. So that means...   
  
“I know.” Jeff’s looking at him and his eyes are nervous but clear.  
  
Amistad is wagging her tail. She looks eager and excited and Jim thinks, _oh, buddy, you couldn’t have let me know? I guess you and Woodstock here were conspiring._

Suddenly it all makes sense. Maybe Jim can’t read people as well as he thought. Or maybe Jeff’s just a hard nut to crack. 

“Listen, I get it if you don’t feel the same way, but -”

“Jeff, you have nothing to worry about.” Jim interrupts. He can’t help but smile. For once in his life he didn’t mess things up. He made them better.

Sofia flies off of his shoulder and goes to sit on Amistad’s head. Amistad lolls her tongue out, satisfied and happy.  They look right together. Two souls in harmony. 

“Are - are you sure?” Jeff asks.

“I’m sure.” Jim replies, and, keeping in mind his wounded finger, he closes the foot of distance between them, cups Jeff’s cheek, and kisses him. 

Jeff’s soft sigh once he relaxes isn’t quite as musical as a birdsong, but really, it’s just as beautiful. 

\---- 

Daemons do different things when their humans are having sex. Most tend to wrestle, but some just cuddle or sit near each other peacefully.   
  
Sofia and Amistad do neither of those things. They are, apparently (“no, they can play in the hall, I’m not making them sit politely in the corner like this is the fucking Victorian era”) tweeting and barking up a storm, respectively.  
  
“The neighbors are going to complain.” Jeff jokes, his entire upper body flushed with exertion. He’s bare, naked to the world, the sheets near the foot of the bed.   
  
Jim giggles from his spot around Jeff’s hip. “Why? Because they’re loud or because you’re loud?”   
  
“Shut up.” Jeff laughs. “You love me.”   
  
“Yeah.” Jim reaches up and cards his fingers through Jeff’s hair. Jeff leans his head back in a motion that looks familiar. “I think I do.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> y'all have been sleeping on my man jeff zeleny so i'm starting this tag all by myself. also idk how "real" daemon aus work i've never read the golden compass. seen the mediocre movie tho


End file.
